I see the look in your eyes.
I feel it in the touch of your hand on my thigh.
You think tonight is the night.
But baby, something just isn't right.
You're like a stranger to me.
The one I used to know is just a distant memory.
I don't love you,
This isn't what I want to do.
Now the tears are falling down my face.
How did I end up in this place?
You think you're gonna get lucky,
But boy don't be so cocky.
I cringe when you say my name,
I just don't feel the same.
With each kiss,
I know I can't do this.
This isn't the way it's supposed to be.
I need to be free.
I don't want to hurt you,
But this is not something I can do.
As you kiss my cheek,
I struggle to speak.
You think tonight is the night,
But baby, something just isn't right.
You're like a stranger to me.
The one I used to know is just a distant memory.
I don't know how I got here.
I am living my worst fear.
I finally found someone to love me,
But all I want is to be free.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Falling Into Place
What do you do when everything falls into place,
When you have a constant smile on your face.
A normal person would fill with delight
If you're like me, you are overcome with anxiety and fright.
It must be too good to be true.
Things like this don't happen to you.
You had always hoped they would,
But never thought they could.
It makes you want to scream,
Things can't possibly be what they seem.
You want to run for the hills
Until the frightened beating of your heart stills.
Everything is finally right,
But all you want to do is fight.
This can't be meant for you,
So what do you do?
You just wait for something to go wrong,
It won't be long...
It must be too good to be true.
Things like this don't happen to you.
You had always hoped they would,
But never thought they could.
So you push everything away.
Tell yourself there's no reason to stay.
It's smarter to leave while you can,
Instead of be hurt by another man.
The world is opening itself for you,
Offering a chance for you to do what you want to do.
You're too stubborn to see,
That you deserve to be happy.
You decide that everything happens for a reason.
So like the change of the season,
You look forward to a brand new day,
And convince yourself to stay.
It must be too good to be true.
Things like this don't happen to you.
But everything has fallen into place,
So you walk with your head held high and a grateful smile on your face.
When you have a constant smile on your face.
A normal person would fill with delight
If you're like me, you are overcome with anxiety and fright.
It must be too good to be true.
Things like this don't happen to you.
You had always hoped they would,
But never thought they could.
It makes you want to scream,
Things can't possibly be what they seem.
You want to run for the hills
Until the frightened beating of your heart stills.
Everything is finally right,
But all you want to do is fight.
This can't be meant for you,
So what do you do?
You just wait for something to go wrong,
It won't be long...
It must be too good to be true.
Things like this don't happen to you.
You had always hoped they would,
But never thought they could.
So you push everything away.
Tell yourself there's no reason to stay.
It's smarter to leave while you can,
Instead of be hurt by another man.
The world is opening itself for you,
Offering a chance for you to do what you want to do.
You're too stubborn to see,
That you deserve to be happy.
You decide that everything happens for a reason.
So like the change of the season,
You look forward to a brand new day,
And convince yourself to stay.
It must be too good to be true.
Things like this don't happen to you.
But everything has fallen into place,
So you walk with your head held high and a grateful smile on your face.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
In My Own Skin
I’m a child of immigrants.
My Father was born in Mexico.
My Mother was born and raised in El Salvador.
I was born in San Francisco.
I was brought up loving tamales, pupusas, and hamburgers.
I spoke Spanish.
I spoke English.
I embraced everyone regardless of nationality, ethnicity or color.
I never had to think about it before.
I grew up with white kids.
And all I wanted was to fit in,
But they were too concerned with the color of my skin.
They said there was something not right.
They said I was too Brown to be White.
I moved to a place with very little white kids.
In this brand new place,
I was surrounded by brown faces.
But they were too concerned with the sound of my voice.
They would look at me and frown.
They said something was not right.
They said I was too White to be Brown.
I didn’t speak enough Spanish,
I had the wrong accent.
They said I looked white,
They said that something was not right.
How could I be Brown when I acted so White?
I was stuck in this limbo
It was a terrifying place.
Some were telling me there was something wrong with my face
Others had a problem with the sound of my voice
They all said I needed to make a choice.
I could only be one.
Brown or White.
But they all said something was not right.
I was too Brown to be White,
And I was too White to be Brown.
For a time that was far too long.
I believed that I was wrong.
I believed that there was something about me that was not right.
Now I realize it had nothing to do with being too brown or too white.
The problem was I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin.
I was too concerned with fitting in.
I didn’t see how happy I could be
Just by being me.
They all said something was not right.
But I saw the light.
If people can’t accept me for who I am
Screw ‘em.
I’m going to continue being me
And that makes me perfectly happy.
My Father was born in Mexico.
My Mother was born and raised in El Salvador.
I was born in San Francisco.
I was brought up loving tamales, pupusas, and hamburgers.
I spoke Spanish.
I spoke English.
I embraced everyone regardless of nationality, ethnicity or color.
I never had to think about it before.
I grew up with white kids.
And all I wanted was to fit in,
But they were too concerned with the color of my skin.
They said there was something not right.
They said I was too Brown to be White.
I moved to a place with very little white kids.
In this brand new place,
I was surrounded by brown faces.
But they were too concerned with the sound of my voice.
They would look at me and frown.
They said something was not right.
They said I was too White to be Brown.
I didn’t speak enough Spanish,
I had the wrong accent.
They said I looked white,
They said that something was not right.
How could I be Brown when I acted so White?
I was stuck in this limbo
It was a terrifying place.
Some were telling me there was something wrong with my face
Others had a problem with the sound of my voice
They all said I needed to make a choice.
I could only be one.
Brown or White.
But they all said something was not right.
I was too Brown to be White,
And I was too White to be Brown.
For a time that was far too long.
I believed that I was wrong.
I believed that there was something about me that was not right.
Now I realize it had nothing to do with being too brown or too white.
The problem was I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin.
I was too concerned with fitting in.
I didn’t see how happy I could be
Just by being me.
They all said something was not right.
But I saw the light.
If people can’t accept me for who I am
Screw ‘em.
I’m going to continue being me
And that makes me perfectly happy.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
He May Not Be Perfect
He may not be perfect
But neither are you...
He may not always say the right thing
But he makes your heart sing.
He may tell you lies
And bring tears to your eyes.
He may not always do what he's told
But deep down he has a heart made of gold.
He'll hold you tight when you're feeling cold.
Nothing about him will ever get old.
He'll kiss away ever single tear
And continue to love you year after year.
The two of you may fight,
But he'll always be there to hold you at night.
He may make you cry,
But a part of you would die
Without him in your life.
He's the only one who's ever really held your heart.
The two of you can't stand to be apart.
For better or worse
He's the one you want to be with.
He makes everything better
And makes life that much sweeter.
He may not be perfect,
But neither are you.
The highs far outweigh the lows.
When you are together everything around you slows.
You are the only two people in the room.
The look in his eyes says everything.
He loves you
And he always will.
Your heart soars with glee.
And this is the only place you want to be.
He may not always do the right thing
And he's not perfect,
But neither are you.
But maybe...
Just maybe he's exactly what you need
Alone neither of you are perfect,
But together,
There's nothing better.
But neither are you...
He may not always say the right thing
But he makes your heart sing.
He may tell you lies
And bring tears to your eyes.
He may not always do what he's told
But deep down he has a heart made of gold.
He'll hold you tight when you're feeling cold.
Nothing about him will ever get old.
He'll kiss away ever single tear
And continue to love you year after year.
The two of you may fight,
But he'll always be there to hold you at night.
He may make you cry,
But a part of you would die
Without him in your life.
He's the only one who's ever really held your heart.
The two of you can't stand to be apart.
For better or worse
He's the one you want to be with.
He makes everything better
And makes life that much sweeter.
He may not be perfect,
But neither are you.
The highs far outweigh the lows.
When you are together everything around you slows.
You are the only two people in the room.
The look in his eyes says everything.
He loves you
And he always will.
Your heart soars with glee.
And this is the only place you want to be.
He may not always do the right thing
And he's not perfect,
But neither are you.
But maybe...
Just maybe he's exactly what you need
Alone neither of you are perfect,
But together,
There's nothing better.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Good Stories
What makes a good story?
Is it the characters? Is it the setting? Is it the plot itself? Is it simply the ability of the author to masterfully and beautifully tie everything together. The way the author can realistically but at the same time unbelievably weave their characters through the plot...
Is it the language, the beautiful, descriptive words used to describe even the simplest object? The words used to describe love, heartbreak, pain and sorrow...
What is it that pulls a reader in? What keeps their eyes glued to the pages, constantly craving more? What makes a person continue reading into the wee hours of the morning, never feeling fatigue, only feeling what the characters feel?
Or is it simply our desire, the readers' desire, to read a really good story, one so magical and captivating that it can completely pull us into a different world?
Maybe it's the escape. A tantilizing story allows us to escape reality, if only for a short period. A good story has the ability to fill the reader with unbearable pain, despair, heartbreak, loneliness and utter darkness.
Above all, a really good story has the ability to fill us with undying, unfaltering hope.
Is it the characters? Is it the setting? Is it the plot itself? Is it simply the ability of the author to masterfully and beautifully tie everything together. The way the author can realistically but at the same time unbelievably weave their characters through the plot...
Is it the language, the beautiful, descriptive words used to describe even the simplest object? The words used to describe love, heartbreak, pain and sorrow...
What is it that pulls a reader in? What keeps their eyes glued to the pages, constantly craving more? What makes a person continue reading into the wee hours of the morning, never feeling fatigue, only feeling what the characters feel?
Or is it simply our desire, the readers' desire, to read a really good story, one so magical and captivating that it can completely pull us into a different world?
Maybe it's the escape. A tantilizing story allows us to escape reality, if only for a short period. A good story has the ability to fill the reader with unbearable pain, despair, heartbreak, loneliness and utter darkness.
Above all, a really good story has the ability to fill us with undying, unfaltering hope.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
